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Archive for the ‘Dating’ Category

At yet another internet portal leading to a giant flapping angry vagina, a bitchy woman reveals, unintentionally, hilariously, a list of 22 excellent negs, teases, challenges, and disqualifications that would work very well as pick-up tactics. She begins,

Don’t say any of these phrases to a girl. In fact, don’t even think them around girls. If you do, be prepared for the wrath.

What follows is not so much “the wrath” as a bandwidth-eating mess of GIFs which she uses as a crutch to compensate for her total absence of a sense of humor. Like other bishes of her kind, you can properly assume that when a blogger bish gets all wound up with no where logical to go, she’s recently been dumped by an aloof alpha lover and is trying to assuage her butthurt ego by pretending it was his lack of betaboy politesse that really caused the breakup. This is never more apparent than when the limbically bruised bish logs online to vent her spleen about a laundry list of supposed horribly inconsiderate alpha male habits that… coincidentally!… every man she’s ever banged and prayed would become her long term boyfriend exhibited in her company.

Here’s her list, minus her vapid snark. You tell me if you don’t think these are the sorts of lines that natural womanizers employ with impunity.

1.”You look really tired.”

Tingles are born in the defensive crouch.

2. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

This is a great opener, especially if paired with a long pregnant pause, followed by some silly construct, like “Don’t take this the wrong way, but……….. paper or plastic?”

3. “You remind me of my mom.”

Fantastic neg. Is this a bad thing, or a good thing? It’s not like you think ill of your own mother.

4. “Are you on your period?”

This is a version of “nuke the hamster from orbit” game. “Are you on your period?…. Because I heard that girls who drink gin and tonics are flowing like the Nile.”

5. “Are you wearing that?”

This line provides a good conversation thread break to what you think would look good on her.

6. “You might be able to fit into this.”

Spin, hamster, spin.

7. “Your sister is so hot!”

Neg. Is she chopped liver by comparison, or does hotness run in her family?

8.  “You have a really pretty face.”

This is what the bish wrote: Just my face? What, you made it past my neck and decided that the rest of me was hideous? And that, gentlemen, is exactly what a tight neg is supposed to accomplish.

9. “Your hair looks way better (shorter, darker, longer, up, etc.).”

Chicks dig a judgmental man. Why? Because it means he can afford to be judgmental.

10. “You’re still hungry?”

#FatShamingForever. Nip that Jabba wannabe in the bud.

11. “Why are you freaking out?”

This tactic is less effective within the firm shell of a relationship than it is when unloaded during the dating period. All I can say is that if you have a girlfriend who freaks out a lot, you’re better off telling her to stop than asking her why she won’t stop.

12. “Didn’t you wear that last week?”

Related: Classic PUA neg: “Great dress. It must be popular. I saw two girls wearing it last week.”

13. “You ask a lot of questions.”

This line is very effective when delivered on a first or second date. It immediately imbues you with an air of mystery while insinuating that the girl is so into you she can’t help but be curious.

14. “I don’t know if I trust your cooking.”

Great challenge that can lead to a funny conversation.

15. “It’s not you; it’s me.”

If a man says this nowadays, he’s obviously being ironic. Or a mischievous asshole. Translation: He doesn’t care what you think of the line.

16. “Is that your real hair?”

Neg. Chicks will claim it’s offensive, but their muff moistening belies their words.

17. “Don’t be mad; I was just kidding!”

This is actually the one line on the list that men should avoid saying. Not because it’ll make the girl mad, but because it’s supplicating and unattractive.

18. “Are you sick?”

If a girl gets this line a lot, she may want to see a doctor.

19. “You’re crazy.”

Challenging a girl to prove she’s not crazy is liable to make her even crazier… thinking about you.

20. “You have a lot of feelings.”

😆 Love the ambiguity.

21. “Calm down.”

Sean Connery knows how to calm a woman down.

22. “How much do you weigh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m curious. You have the body for a bobsledder.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Hey, bobsledders are HOT. Do you have a problem with bobsledders? My beloved grandmother was a bobsledder, and she was CHOICE back in her day.”

***

Programming note: It’s a good time to reflect how fantastically obnoxious American women have become. Ladies, if you’re reading, a helpful tip: You have to work to please men as men work to please women. Somewhere along the way, a fat lot of you forgot that simple truth, thinking that the world, and the world’s men, owe you something for nothing. Worse, owe you for acting like roaring cunts. Rest assured, reality will set you right in short order.

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Your lovable overlord CH is on record advocating the “Boss-Secretary Sexual Strategy” (BoSSS) to reduce income inequality and increase the fertility rate among the better classes.

Fisher agress with the CH diagnosis of the postmodern West that the end days of a civilization are characterized by an exaltation of deviancy (equalism) and a debasement of normalcy (sophism). We in the West long ago abandoned our barbarian ethos. In return for this “moral progress”, we have limitless pleasures of the flesh and material comforts. But we also have complacency, self-annihilating moral universalism, and infertility. Perhaps a return to barbarian values is just the medicine to save the West from a long walk in the shadow of the valley of death.

The patented CH solution to dysgenic fertility is to break the stranglehold of assortative mating by IQ that is currently aided and abetted by the helicopter parent ethos, and return to traditional pairings of powerful, high ability men with pretty but less educated and accomplished women. Call it the CH boss-secretary sexual strategy to renew Western vitality. This will increase fertility, increase total happiness, and decrease the degenerate SWPL culture monolith that is at the lead of decivilizing and ethnically cleansing great Western nations.

Silly reader, you thought it was a self-amusing exercise in hyperbole. Oh no.

Has there been an increase in positive assortative mating? Does assortative mating contribute to household income inequality? Data from the United States Census Bureau suggests there has been a rise in assortative mating. Additionally, assortative mating affects household income inequality. In particular, if matching in 2005 between husbands and wives had been random, instead of the pattern observed in the data, then the Gini coefficient would have fallen from the observed 0.43 to 0.34, so that income inequality would be smaller. Thus, assortative mating is important for income inequality. The high level of married female labor-force participation in 2005 is important for this result.

Science and CH… ♥♥♥ together!

Assortative mating is creating an Eloi-Morlock, or Elf-Orc, social stratification. People are forming credential-based blocs and seceding economically and socially if not yet politically. This cultural secession is reinforcing mutual ignorance, dampening mutual sympathies, and hollowing the natural fellow-feeling that is the bedrock foundation — the first principle — of any nation that wishes to carry forward in prosperity for the benefit of its posterity. Explosive diversity amplifies the stratification, and may have even been the fission reaction that set this immolation aflame and hardened hearts in its crucible of crisis.

The deadly chain of assortative mating must be broken for Western civilization to have a rebirth of greatness. The way to do this is the BoSSS system. BoSSS men will marry pretty secretaries or other occupationally “lowly” women instead of acquiescing to the hitch of convenience with multiple-degreed lawyercunts. The result of a generation of BoSSS is an end to the reign of meritocratic lovelessness, cognitive and geographic cocooning, and class-fueled hatred. An end to late-in-life spergs borne of the desiccated wombs of overeducated cougars. An end to the swarm of communications graduates with nothing to offer in a modern tech-centric economy. An end to… dare my heart speak it!… feminism and equalism as mass delusions rationalizing a world tearing apart.

There will be those who protest that BoSSS is dysgenic. But they operate under a misconception about how exactly women’s value in the mating market is calculated. A woman’s mate worth is not measured by her years toiling in grad school, or by her achievements, or by her ambition, or by her social connections or her business acumen. It is measured by her beauty, her femininity, and her compassion. The secretary with the blazing blue eyes, hourglass figure, and heart of gold is worth, in the abacus of men’s desire, more than a thousand meticulously credentialed globalist form factors. She is true beauty to the ascendent ugliness looming around her.

And she needn’t be dumb, either. Many sweet, charming “lower class” women are sharp as tacks, despite their mortal sin of having not willingly endured 52 years of academic mind meld to the equalist borg.

CH said it once, and says it again: It’s time to return to the old, true ways. To a courtship arena that paired established men with pretty young assistants full of adoration and admiration. It is the natural order of things, the divine prescription, when the starry-eyed lovely, already gazing in welcome submission, completes the act of her surrender to the powerful man above her. And in so doing, circles back to the wisdom of the ancients, and casts to the everlasting darkness the jackal harridans of the globo-femcunt credentialist collective.

I tell you now, break these assortative mating chains! Free! Free! Free at last! Thank God Almighty you are free at last to pursue love with a cute, worshipful underling and be a happy man again!

PS: There are plenty of reasons why CH rails against the obesity epidemic so passionately, but one is that it’s easier for high status men to date “occupationally lower” women if those women still have their exquisite figures.

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Have you ever banged a woman you thought was impossibly hot, too hot for a mere peasant boy like yourself? Chances are, you haven’t. Most men don’t reach for the ass ring. Fear — and sometimes experience — cultivates an exquisite sense for one’s sexual rank, and an avoidance mentality that preempts rejection by sultry specimens thought to be “out of one’s league”.

But most men are not all men. A few warriors of the whiskered wound have banged out of their league, and lived to tell of the tail. Men with game will occasionally, maybe even often, bang women considered by the general population to be too beautiful for them. Other men will luck into an amazing fling with a superb hottie. Usually, some combination of fortuitous circumstance and seduction skill is the backdrop to a stunning mismatch between a regular guy and a boner fried bombshell.

In before the trick-less trolls and baffled haters hijack the substance of this post to nasalize their belief that men’s sexual value is judged by the same looks metric as women’s sexual value, let it be hammered into their blocklike skulls (again) that women judge a man’s mate worthiness by many measures, not least of which is his social value and his seductive savviness. So when we say that a man is shooting “out of his league”, we don’t necessarily mean the spectacle of a very ugly man with a beautiful woman (though it could mean that). We could also mean a man who compares favorably in the looks department with the woman he is dating, but who falls short in other equally important criteria. A good-looking but socially awkward nerd with a hottie is one such mismatch that strikes a discordant note on observers’ pattern-recognition tuning forks.

With that anti-hater disclaimer out of the way, we can move on to the meat and potatoes. Kai Peter Chang, a self-professed informal dating coach and boffer of beautiful babies, describes his experience dating what he figured (that’s the important qualifier) was a woman way out of his league.

Have you ever had the experience of getting a taste of a life light-years above your social class/station? 

Perhaps it’s being a guest at an extravagant $200,000 wedding thrown by a distant relative you barely know. All you can do is marvel at the gorgeous decor and decadent food you can never afford on your own.

Perhaps it’s a wealthy uncle/friend-of-a-friend who inexplicably allowed you take his $120,000 sports car for a spin around the neighborhood. All you can do is pray you don’t crash the car, or pop the clutch and embarrass yourself.

Perhaps you were summoned to an urgent work meeting that requires your presence thousands of miles away, and your employer authorized you to fly on the company jet (ordinarily reserved for its top executives). All you can do is fantasize about the day you’re powerful/rich enough to use a private jet for all your travel.

TL;DR: it’s like that – but involving the deepest part of sexuality and romance.

[A] number of years ago, I dated someone substantially “out of my league” for almost a year.

Her: a former Miss Hong Kong pageant gal, B-list actress/model/TVB television personality. In her prime, she was courted and pursued by the super-Alpha kings of Hong Kong: A-list movie stars, million-record-selling musicians, property tycoons, CEOs and power brokers at the apex of Hong Kong society.

Me: At the time, a Mergers & Acquisitions Analyst at an investment-banking firm – an easily-replacable cog in a financial behemoth, four years her junior. During that period, I commanded a low five-digit net worth, and no status to speak of. A nobody.

She told me afterward that she gave me her number because she was amused by the fact that I clearly didn’t recognize her; in Hong Kong, the only strangers who approach her are autograph-seekers and those who want to pose with her for a photo and I was utterly oblivious to her stature when I was flirting with her.

Nice neg.

It is also helpful to note that during this time, I was at still in first blush of youth – a few years out of college, filled with brazen and unrealistic cocky ambition of what I can accomplish, arrogant to the point of delusion, and impervious to feedback/advice.

I was also insecure as hell, and in complete denial about it.

With all that backdrop, the question was how did it feel as the “lesser” partner?

It was flattering, thrilling and unnerving all at once.

The more beautiful women you bed, the less unnerving (and thrilling, sadly) it becomes. You start to internalize the belief that you deserve them. This is the asshole’s secret of success.

Dating far above my station gave me a glimpse of the life that exists at a completely different strata of society. Growing up a son of broke-ass immigrant parents and attending public schools my entire life surrounded by others of modest immigrant socioeconomic background, the first thing that stood out was her nearly-unlimited access to favors and accouterments of her elevated station.

When you socialize with people who own spare yachts, faraway luxury properties and infrequently-used personal jets, you can cobble together an impromptu exotic vacation with a few phone calls. It will end up costing you little more than the price of a full tank of jet/yacht fuel and the promise of reciprocity of access to your own toys/properties at some unspecified future date.

I, of course, had nothing to offer in these types of trades – and that knowledge was a source of gnawing insecurity; while I was stupidly confident that I was just a few years/career moves away from joining the company of Hong Kong aristocracy on my own, my immediate financial circumstances were far more modest and I flew Coach to visit her, while she flew First Class or via private jet to rendezvous with me.

If you doubt your worth to a woman, she will feel compelled to agree with you. If you don’t doubt, neither will she.

The clandestine nature of our relationship (officially, she was the spoken-for consort of a powerful Hong Kong property tycoon two decades her senior and her lifestyle was bankrolled by his largesse) added a further element of illicit excitement; it was thrilling to be checking into hotels under fake names, arriving to locations at staggered times to avoid being seen together in public.

The sneaky fucker MO. It’s exciting because you know you’re getting something for free (outstanding pussy), that other men have to pay for in yachts and high society access.

In retrospect, I now understand what she meant when, right before the first time we slept together, she whispered in my ear “Please don’t fall in love with me.”

She was wiser and more pragmatic than I; she knew, better than I did at the time, the ephemeral nature of our doomed fling.

After several months of our relationship – which consisted writing letters to each other (she has a gorgeous, calligraphic handwriting and a wry playful prose that was a delight to read) and time-zone-spanning international phone calls, interspersed with week-long face-to-face rendezvous where we exhausted ourselves in hotel rooms in various locations along the Pacific rim, she tearfully confessed “Do you remember what I said to you that first night? I’m having a hard time following my own advice.”

It was as close as she could get to tell me she loved me, but it was clear that whatever we had would end someday.

Better to have loved a hottie and lost her, than to love a fug and keep her.

No doubt losing a pathway to high grade pussy is a blow to a man’s pleasure center, if not also his ego. But it was more dangerous for her to fall in love, because the nature of woman doesn’t allow for shared love between disparate men who offer her competing comforts beyond the wildest dreams of the average representative of her sex. She risked discovery, and the concomitant loss of feminine prestige and resources from her richer suitors. Truly beautiful women possess a degree of pragmatism that those who have little to lose can barely comprehend. Although if your charm is mesmerizing and your confidence imperturbable her love can bond her so tightly even the baubles of princes won’t steal her from your embrace.

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A (possibly foreign) girl writes about a dilemma that should be familiar to any pretty woman with dreams of alpha males pledging devotion dancing in her bed,

I am writing to ask you a question related to dating and marriage. Just what you wanted to and so rarely hear 🙂 First, to introduce myself, I am what most men would rate as an 8, or on a really good day perhaps a 9, [ed: legit] am 26, and really only date alpha males. I can’t help it, I like the fire that can burn me. My last two boyfriends were both extremely charismatic, successful, magnetic et al and I spent a year with each before I realized they had something in common: aversion to marriage. Both were around 33, an age when many men begin to consider that stuff, in my opinion. My question is this:

As I am 26 and not going to be more attractive in five years, and I would like to get married within that time frame, how do I go about eschewing the alphas who are not interested in me for marriage? Should I start directing my attentions to the ones around 40 and up? Right now I can have my pick of most men, though it will not always remain thus, but as alphas are harder to marry than other men and commitment is what I want, should I redirect my attentions towards betas?

Of course perhaps it was just me that neither wanted to marry, but it was the reason for both breakups, and really I would rather not waste my time/energy/looks/emotions on men who just want to enjoy me for a year or two….

Anyway I appreciate you taking the time to read this and if you decide to post this and answer it on your website, feel free to, but please alter my name. Thanks 🙂

A critical detail remains unanswered: Did you initiate your break-ups with the last two alpha boyfriends? If not, you are probably dating out of your league — that is, you are fucking men who don’t think you have the goods to persuade them of an early retirement from the field — and the men decided your marital ultimatum, or innuendos of marital ultimatums to come, was a cramping of their style they couldn’t tolerate. So they dumped you while the dumping was good.

If, however, you did initiate the break-ups, it suggests your exes thought well enough of you to stick it out for as long as possible, holding out the hope of nuptial rewards until you called their deceptive feints. In this scenario, you are not dating out of your league so much as you are experiencing what it’s like to be with men who have the hearts of cads, but love you nonetheless.

My advice, should you choose to accept it:

Yes, dating older men is a solution. An older alpha male begins to feel two pressing awarenesses: his posterity, and his mortality. In this psychological stew, the love of a younger, loyal woman beckoning him to surrender his bachelor freedoms is a temptation hard to resist. But, if this is not an option…

Pursue the greater beta male. Often, the only notable differences between an alpha male and a greater beta male are the former’s superior charisma and the latter’s superior commitment. If you can suffer the even-temper and placid mood of the greater beta for his gift of marital capitulation, you will live a happy life. If not, prepare for my final piece of advice…

Continue your Sisyphean quest for the magnetic alpha male who inflames your ichor yet who is also willing to abide your peculiarly female constraints on his vital energies. These men do exist, but they’re rare. Not quite phantoms, but you’ll have to hunt them down. To start, you must identify warning signs of flightiness, and hopeful auspices of lifelong devotion.

– Is he a social king? The man who holds court, holds the love of many women. Try to date men who are less extroverted. The alpha introvert is socialy savvy, but he also prefers his solitude. This desire for solitude is correlated with conscientiousness, low impulsivity, and affinity for home and hearth.

– Are his parents still together (if alive)? The faithful apple doesn’t fall far from the tree of fidelity. Don’t underestimate the influence of genes on behavior.

– Has he dated and dumped a lot of beautiful women? Red flag.

– Are you better looking than his exes? You may be the one to quell his urge to wander.

– Is he willing to wait more than three dates before having sex with you? Hopeful auspice.

– Does he go out of his way to learn things about you? He’s smitten. (Or he’s a grandmaster player.)

– Does he have a (big) dog? He’s got an incipient paternal instinct.

– Is he politically conservative? If so, he’s more likely to want to marry and raise a family.

– Are his friends womanizers? He’s sympatico with the swinging scimitar lifestyle.

– Is he an epicurean of food, drink and art? He might also be an epicurean of women.

This is a partial list to get you started. One other thing. Beware prowlers bearing charming wit. Unlike men you meet within your social circle, the lone wolf does not come favorably endorsed nor does he fear betraying your friends’ trust.

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From a Craigslist W4M posting (since expired):

Gansevoort bathroom in January – w4m – 24 (West Village)

I was your cocktail waitress 3 weeks ago at the rooftop. You were there on a Wednesday night with your friends(?) or clients from work. You said you worked for GS, but you might have just said whatever. I mean, what does a dumb bitch like me know, right? You flirted with me and asked me what I did other than work here and I told you I’m in acting school. You were really hot in that asshole lacrosse kinda way with your blonde hair and broad shoulders, maybe 29, 30. You followed me to the bathroom and grabbed my tits and hair pushed down. I got on my knees and sucked your cock. I didn’t know what else to do. Then you blew a load on my face and stuck a $100 bill on it. You walked out without saying anything, when I straightened up and came out your table already settled. And left me a nice tip. I wish you left me a card but you probably didn’t want me to know your real name or where you really worked.

I’d just leave it at that, and apply it to my acting, but the trouble is that I really liked it. You made me feel like a fucking cheap chinky whore. I wanna do it again but you don’t need to tip me. Get in touch, please. We don’t have to date. I just really liked pleasing you.

I wonder if the General Social Survey captures this kind of data?

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Some gross feminist careerist reptile who works for Facebook (dying media company if the decline in young recruits is any indication) has a long interview in Salon explaining her insipid views on the disparity between the sexes in upper echelon representation and the oft-debunked (but obviously not often enough) “gender pay gap”. I urge you to skim it quickly, because it’s largely the usual unverifiable, proof by assertion femcunt claptrap. However, there is one response she gives which bracingly reveals how a lot of modern American women, unawares or not, strategize their dating lives.

Look, I’m not pretending I can give advice to every single person or every single couple for every situation; I’m making the point that we are not going to get to equality in the workforce before we get to equality in the home. [ed: could you imagine being hitched to this repulsive ballbuster?] Not going to happen. You know, I give advice to young women. I say “pick a partner.” If that partner is female you are in good shape because you are likely to split up things very evenly; the data’s very strong that same-sex couples split responsibilities much more evenly. [ed: the data is also strong that dyke couples have high rates of domestic violenceIf you are a female and your partner is likely to be male, this is something to really pay attention to. I say in the book, date the bad boys, date the crazy boys, but do not marry them. Marry the boys who are going to change half of the diapers.

“I don’t wanna sound like a feminist slut or nothin… but I kinda wanna fuck the sexy jerks and make the niceguys wait to put a ring on it.”

I hope every beta male in the world is reading this post right now, because this bitch just opened up and exposed the mouth to hell that burns at the heart of every woman’s naked id. Not all women are so aggressively calculating, but most feel the subsonic thump of compulsion to autonomically follow the alpha fux, beta bux dating strategy. It’s your job as a man with functioning testicles to stop women from using you in this manner. Paradoxically, most women will love you harder for stopping them from indulging their worst instincts.

Reader Days of Broken Arrows writes:

Few quotes reveal what’s so dysfunctional about modern dating than this — and that includes her desultory use of the word “boys” in lieu of men.

Exactly right. While the cad/dad dichotomy of choice in women is as ancient as the tree of life, the social constraints on satisfying the dichotomy have never been looser than now. Post-modern, post-industrial, pre-singularity West — whatever you want to call it — is enabling women to not only pursue an ultimately self-defeating dualistic cad/dad strategy that will leave the lot of them feeling spiteful and unloved, but it’s encouraging them to extol the strategy as an empowering way to interact with men. It’s as if women have forgotten that men respond to sexual market cues as well, and won’t just casually accept disadvantageous dating roles that leave them supine to women’s machinations.

I’ve noticed that as Western women have become masculinized and set adrift from their main purpose as nurturers and child bearers to ricochet down a rocky crevasse of careerism, multi-decade pump and dump victimization and pre-wall beta male settling, their desire, their need, to belittle men has increased. This need is likely born of frustration. And so we see them tossing around terms like “boys” and “guys” to avoid addressing their potential lovers and providers as “men”. Similarly, as Western men have become feminized and neutered of their ability to project dominance, their need to glorify women and accord their every trivial accomplishment or wayward musing a hero’s benediction has increased. The behaviors of the sexes are in the process of meiosis and reformulation, a classic switcheroo, and this is a harbinger of the end days of a cultural empire.

What the vapid feminist entity above confesses, perhaps unwittingly, is that chicks truly deeply honestly dig jerks. They dig jerks so much that they have to be counseled not to seek marriage with them, and to seek instead marriage to boring men who don’t viscerally excite them. For you see, it’s a myth that women don’t want the jerks for long term romances. They do. The problem is that the jerks don’t want to be tied down, especially not to unfeminine battle-axes who think their vaginas are gold-plated and their reality-denying stridency is evidence of their sexual worth.

A few very beautiful women — not the Salon interviewee — can successfully pursue an “alpha fux, alpha bux” dating strategy. This is the equivalent of hitting the jackpot as a woman. And in point of fact, beautiful women have fewer sex partners than their more modest-looking sisters. The reason is simple: when you have the goods, you are less likely to give them away for free. Beautiful women can capture — and keep — alpha male attention without resorting to leg-spreading enticement. Homelier women must spread… or accept loneliness.

But most women are not that beautiful. For the majority, an “alpha fux, beta bux” strategy will net them, if they are in reasonably good shape, a decade of fantasy-fueling sex and miserable relationships, culminating in marriage (and a bank-busting wedding extravaganza) to a doughy herbling who must know deep in his bones that he is paying dearly for damaged product which better men than he used for free back when it was fresh off the shelves. He must also know that his rode-worn beloved who is about to execute the final stage of her indentured beta male servant plan considers him a second-rate alternative to the lovers of her past. If women don’t think this galls the betas who must accede to these liberated, feminist-friendly conditions, they are in for a rude awakening when they discover how quickly the hubby herblings give up on life and on pleasing their cackling sow wives.

An “alpha fux, beta bux” dating strategy may sound, on paper, very pleasing to women, but pursuit of it is almost guaranteed to lead to frustration and bitterness for most women in the modern mating market. One, the natural order of things can withstand only so much subversion before the spirit breaks. An aging woman with an extensive sexual history will come to resent her unexciting diaper-changing bore of a husband with whom she settled, and he will resent her rapidly imploding sexual attractiveness, acidic demeanor and daily tacit reminders of his low status.

Two, men are not wind-up toys ready to do the bidding of manipulative women; those jerkboy fux and betaboy bux may refuse to play along. The sexual market is the collision of competing reproductive goals, and in that plunderdome of all against all, where the only guiding principle is self-interest, the jerkboys may not bother showing up for a date and the betaboys may decide the jerkboys are getting the better end of the deal, and adjust their behavior accordingly, perhaps in the arms of a mistress or porn. Or game.

A woman who plays this strategy to the hilt is taking a big risk that she will be left a destitute single mom or, at best, an unhappy and unloveable EatPrayLove commodity, an appendage to the dehumanizing globalist corporate borg, desirable to no one but the most desperate loser men or conniving schemers. And, looking around, this is what we see happening all over America. The crosstabbed and powerpointed nth wave modern feminist woman will realize, at the end of her long, exhilarating but empty journey, that her happiness as a woman was never amenable to her best-laid blueprints for the efficiently maximized love life.

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Some readers took yesterday’s post as an opportunity to grind an axe about the supposed fact of alpha males rutting with undesirable females. Puzzlingly, a few readers credulously assumed the factual basis of the featured BDF’s (Bitter, Delusional Fattie) proof-free assertions that she has spread for the seraph rods of “Adonises” of “wealth and success” with “chiseled abs”, despite the BDF having a history as a hardcore delusionist spinning weird, often self-contradictory, fantasies on feminist websites.

Sorry, gullible readers, but this does not happen in real life, at least not nearly as often as fat, deluded shits trying to pump their sexual market value would like you to believe. Perhaps a reacquaintance with the rules of the sexual marketplace are in order:

1. Men prefer younger, hotter, thinner babes over older, uglier, fatter broads.

2. Men with options — aka alpha males — will exercise their freedom to date and fuck and even marry younger, hotter, thinner babes.

3. The sorts of men who date and fuck older, uglier, fatter women are men with fewer options, aka beta males and omega males.

I hope this clears things up. But if not, allow me to bring the abstract down to earth with a personal story.

I know a guy who possesses almost every single genetic and personality marker for high male mate value that a woman can dream of in her wildest fantasies — he’s charming, funny, top 2% looks, wealthy, mesomorphic, ambitious, has a certain amount of local fame, loves kids, owns a dog, stylish, seductive, and cocky — I mean, the dude is heaven sent for women, no homo. If he has a flaw it’s that he’s not very interested in romantic gestures, or putting much effort into pursuing women. It’s a flaw most women he dates are all too happy to dismiss as irrelevant. Mostly his “game” is to demonstrate social status by cracking jokes that get the whole group laughing, tease any hot girls nearby, pull back, and wait for them to throw themselves at him. He is very lazy about the follow-up and closing the deal, preferring instead to call it an early night, skip out on exchanging numbers or insta-dates, and walk home in anticipation of sex as the girl nips at his heels, eager to oblige. His laziness in regards the courtship of women means that he will often “slum it” with 7s and 8s rather than put in effort to get the 9s and 10s who would be ecstatic to assume the role as his natural prey. He is the perfect emblem of the “lazy cad”, iow.

In all the time I’ve known him (a long time), he has never, not once, not even a little bit, bedded a woman less than a 7. And when he has bedded a 7, he treated her with a summary cruelty that would be the envy of badboy loving feminists diddling their beans to female porn about sadistic billionaires. Worse still, when shameless BDFs like the chick showcased in yesterday’s post shower him with attention and practically beg for his cock, he stares at them coldly and arrogantly waves them away, as if to say “what in the hell makes you think you have a chance with me?” He does not disguise his contempt for the over-reaching, sexually aggressive BDF. Most alpha males don’t disguise their contempt, because to be approached with an almost open invitation for sex by a grotesquerie is a slap in the face, a denial of the alpha male’s high standing.

This is, I believe, an accurate reflection of the workings of the sexual market at large. True “Adonises” are not slumming it with gross pigs. They are ignoring them, totally, utterly, completely. That is, when they’re not ridiculing them for shits and giggles. Instead, the rare “Adonises” that BDFs claim to fuck are much more likely, upon closer inspection, to be revealed as simply chucklehead losers or, on very good nights, slightly higher value than bland, nondescript lesser betas. In all my forced acquaintances with these “Adonises” who were banging BDFs, the dude turned out to be much less than the BDF proudly advertised. And, along these lines, you have never seen a more wretched prototype of man than the omega orbiter who revolves around BDFs hoping for some of that fat slut love.

In reality, the following observations are the typical scenarios for low value women:

BDF 3s pumped and quickly dumped by male 4s or 5s, with a very lucky few once in a decade (or year, depending how depraved the slut allows herself to become) getting a shot at male 6 penis. And penis is all she will get.

BDF 3s getting short term flings with male 3s or 4s.

And BDF 3s getting long-term flings with male 2s and 3s, possibly male 4s, and most of the times with no men at all.

The rarity of the BDF 3 hooking up with a male 7 cannot be over-emphasized. It happens, but it happens so infrequently that it tells us nothing generalizable about the mating market. I have never seen nor heard of a male 8 or higher hooking up, even for a few seconds in a dark corner of a club, with a BDF 3, unless he was so blotto that he couldn’t clearly see the pig he was sticking.

Some readers will balk and offer Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hugh Grant as examples of alpha males who slummed it with ugly women. Yes, but the reason they are noted punchlines of jokes about indiscriminate horny men is because they are exceptions to the rule, and hence less forgettable than the hordes of alphas who only abide the love of hot babes. For every Arnie banging a Mexican maid on the DL, there are hundreds of Clooneys, DiCaprios, Pitts, Depps and Berlusconis who have a long, long history of banging only grade A ass. And let’s not forget that Arnie has been under the judgment-altering influence of steroids on and off his whole life, and if you have any experience hanging around meatheads on roids, you know that their powers of discrimination quickly yield to their wall-climbing horniness. I once knew a a guy on the juice who said his erections became so uncomfortably insistent that he would look at any hole, animate or inanimate, and wonder about ways to make it conducive to penetration. He was once caught masturbating into a gym towel in the locker room. No one paid him much mind, though, because apparently it is common practice among juicers to relieve themselves at the gym.

Other readers will claim that high testosterone makes men indiscriminate, and they will point to young men or black men as examples of “alphas” who will bone almost anything, thus vindicating the assertions of the BDF. Two problems with this: One, teenage youth — which is the age at which young men have the most free-flowing T and are presumably the most indiscriminate, is not in and of itself an attractive male trait to most women. Since women judge a man’s mate value on a suite of factors of which facial attractiveness is only one variable, it stands to reason that younger dudes out for a thrill would be lower value to most women. So their rankings, from the BDF perspective, would be lower than what she is claiming to score internet debate points. Two, most white women, which is what the BDF under discussion is, want to date and sleep with white men. They may claim their lovers are Adonii, but if their lovers are black men, the BDF is likely to feel that she is settling.

Black men are, not to put too fine a point on it, more willing than are men of other races to fornicate with the dregs of womanhood. I know there are brothers reading this site, and I know you know that I’m right. This point, along with accompanying scientific evidence, was made in the coda to yesterday’s post, so I suggest readers peruse it again so as to avoid these annoying redundancies. It is a horrible, viciously sadistic point I make, but it is a true point. If the black guys in the studio audience have a problem with it, they can start raising their standards and stop dumping in plumpers. I won’t be holding my breath.

Still more readers argue that every man goes through a dry spell, and it is during these periods that BDFs get their holes morosely plundered by alphas. Again, this claim falls under closer examination. First, alpha males have fewer and shorter dry spells than other men. They are rarely without the company of cute girls, so they rarely feel the need to dumpster dive. When they do experience the odd down time, they attempt to end it by aggressively pursuing… more cute girls! Second, beta males, who would be the natural constituent of BDFs looking to satisfy a hypergamous tingle for higher value men (remember, the omega male is the BDF’s SMV equal) are MORE likely to retreat to video games and porn than to recklessly dumpster dive with a fattie! Even betas have a sense of self-respect, arguably a greater sense than do alphas, for the beta is ever so closer to falling permanently into a BDF dating career track.

Finally, there are some readers who argue that alpha males dumpster dive a lot because “they just don’t give a fuck what people think”. Funny, this theory. Since when has a “don’t give a fuck” attitude been incompatible with adhering to standards for oneself? If anything, alpha male don’tgiveafuckness correlates highly with not giving a fuck about risking rejection from hot girls.

The bottom line is this: Alpha males, like all males, prefer thin babes. The difference is that alpha males have the power to fulfill their preferences, and they do. Betas and omegas are the men who must make sacrifices in quality, and who will occasionally dumpster dive because they feel more urgency to grab those infrequent opportunities when they arise.

And doesn’t that just get to the heart of it? Alphas make their opportunities. Betas mind their opportunities.

Nothing in this post should be taken wholly as a counterfactual to the above claims of BDF sexual opportunity. There is, in fact, truth to the notion that BDFs occasionally get their sloppy wet holes serviced by men somewhat higher in value than the BDF could be expected to realistically date in longer term arrangements. The issue I take with those readers who credulously (and curiously) buy BDF assertions of sex with Adonises is the lack of perspective they reveal about the relevance of sexual market hierarchy gradations.

Dumpster diving men above the omega male threshold do exist, but they are rarer than BDF fantasists assert. And they are not nearly as alpha as the typical BDF will eagerly claim in credulous company. Accidental real life meetings with the “sex toys” of BDFs usually confirm suspicions the BDF was lying to stroke her ego: The “lovers” are either black men who are gonna bolt in two days time, or they are white men who are way more beta, charmless, goofy, older, uglier and/or socially awkward than the BDF let on prior to public exposure of her “conquests”.

But even if the BDF gets her ego temporarily massaged by a parade of one night stands only one SMV point higher than herself, that is still enough pressure exerted on the mating market to skew the pairing up and pairing off outcomes. A one point SMV differential between herself and her regretful pumper can be enough to raise the expectations and entitlement of the BDF, and when a slew of these fly-by-nighters are accumulated, the BDF may actually come to believe her own bullshit. When that happens, omegas and lesser beta males who would be the rightful and natural heirs to the puffy sausage hands of BDFs come to find themselves passed over by these beasts who continue to trawl the singles scene hoping to capture the attention of an out-of-sight greater beta male.

The BDF who thinks herself a CSB (Certified Sexy Babe) is bad news for the nation’s betas, who are forced by circumstance of bloated BDF entitlement to put more effort into wooing women lower on the sexual market totem pole. Luckily, this is a self-correcting market skew, as the egotistic BDF who has not made a realistic reappraisal of her romantic worth is left, at last, lonely and unloved under the rubble of the wall that smashed down on top of her.

This is why game is so important for reasons beyond simply the promotion of techniques for snagging verifiably cute chicks; game is an invaluable market-correcting mechanism that redounds to the benefit of beta males who only wish to date IN THEIR OWN LEAGUE. Game opens pathways to hard 10s, and closes off dead ends to flabby 2s.

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